Is It Blood or Ketchup?

And again.
I "accidentally" cut my hand.
I see my red rose bloom, the
soapy water now run red.
The sting. Oh yes, the sting.
It sends icy fingertips down my
spine. Chilling me to the core,
to warm my shivering soul.
Oh yes, the sting.

Oops. And again.
How clumsy am I!
It slipped through my grasp, like
a wet fish. A silver, sharp dorsal
finned fish that I love to play with.
The kitchen staff don't need to know
how clumsy I can be with all their
deliciously sharp tools. The hot
dishwashing water. The blue flames
on the stove. The deep fryer. So
many beautiful ways to release
myself, it should be a sin!

To indulge in these every night.
The gorgeous sensations they
bring with them. The hiss of skin
being fried. The burn of a hot stove.
The warming, fiery feeling of hot metal
and boiling water. Oh how I love my
job.